


Confident of Victory

by maqcy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Badass, Chasing, Gen, Horses, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt, M/M, Pain, rifle, this is my land, woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6426748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maqcy/pseuds/maqcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*This is an original work, belonging to me. If you want to use the characters please message me*</p><p>With a demon on his property and a hunting party in pursuit, Logan just can't leave well enough alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Logan’s cameras picked up the demon on his property almost two hours before the demon was within fifteen miles of his cabin. They caught him when he was moving through the pass, and the warning system’s steady beeping woke Logan. 

Half-asleep, he replayed the footage of the demon’s pale face flashing past the camera, just a blur, nothing to show he was anything but human, but the sensors had picked up a marker on the demon; a blot of light on the screen, radiating from the demon’s torso, where the chip was embedded. 

Logan shrugged on a shirt, leaning towards the screen as, just minutes later, he saw lithe, grey and black dogs streaked past one of the cameras in the same direction the demon had been travelling, men on horses following only seconds behind. Of the ones caught on camera, Logan counted at least a half-dozen.

The demon stumbled into the view of a closer camera and Logan narrowed his eyes at the distance the demon must have travelled in so short a time. He was on his hands and knees, shirtless and filthy, gasping for breath. Logan scowled, his eyes flicking up as another camera’s came onto the screen, showing the demon’s pursuers closing their distance on their target. Logan’s hand closed around his rifle and he watched the demon stumble to his feet and disappear off screen before Logan took a breath and set it down again. A muscle twitched in his jaw as the camera views switched, each one closer to his property than the previous. An older man, seated on a great, pale horse, pulled up close to the camera, his head turning to look past it. Logan caught the smirk on the man’s face, confident of victory and, face set, Logan slung his rifle over one shoulder and headed down the corridor and out the door, patting his belt to check that his knife was where it always was. 

The sky spat down on him, the wind alternatively dragging him forwards and battering against him, a conflicted turmoil of warm and cold. Logan swore quietly as the audio piece in his ear alerted him that the demon had changed course, letting him know that he’d have to move fast if he wanted to incept the demon. 

Logan paused, his thoughts at war with one another. With a growl of frustration, the deadpan voice in his ear telling him the demon was getting further away, Logan thought of the cruel man’s face, and the stubborn, possessive part of him that refused to allow hunting – of any kind – in his territory, and finally took off in a loping stride, relying on his sense of direction and the slight corrections of his course from the earpiece, to keep him moving towards the demon, and his pursuers. 

Ten minutes later and the sound of an animal, a large one, crashing through the undergrowth, brought him up short, scanning the area around him. There, movement. Coming towards him. Staying motionless, Logan watched intently, waiting for the moment when the demon would see him and balk. The demon got far closer, far quicker, than Logan expected, not becoming aware of Logan until there was barely twenty meters between them. His head finally came up, his face slack and desperate with exhaustion, and he recoiled, staggering backwards in his haste to change course, taking in Logan’s rifle, set features and tall, broad-shouldered build at a glance before he took off. Logan lifted his rifle, sighted on the demon’s back, and fired, the shot echoing around the woods. 

Logan moved over quickly, keeping his rifle up as he scanned the demon’s prone form, blood blooming on the demon’s trouser leg, just above the left knee. The demon snarled at him, before his eyes moved past Logan, hearing something Logan couldn’t, and he whimpered, trying to drag himself away from whatever was coming after him. Logan noticed the rain had stopped.

The dogs came first and Logan shot at their feet, sending them scattering backwards. One vicious, mangy grey creature came at them persistently and Logan nicked its back with a bullet, finally forcing it to back off, whining. The horses came only seconds later, thundering towards Logan and his prey like a great wave of flesh, sweat and leather, sending the dogs into boisterous upheaval, yapping and snarling with savage delight. Logan kept his gun to hand, keeping one eye on the demon as he watched the male’s pursuers pulling in front of him, the man he’d seen on camera to the right of the front-man, 

“You’d do well to hand over our quarry. I don’t take very kindly to you shooting at it.” 

“This is my land and you’d do well to leave.” The demon shifted behind him, moving as if to get something from his side and Logan shot him a brittle glare, knocking the heel of his boot against the male’s ribs in warning. The sound of several metallic clicks had Logan’s head up and he narrowed his eyes, “If you shoot me, he’ll get a bullet also.” He warned coldly, levelling his rifle at the leader’s chest. The man considered Logan with contempt, 

“Look, woodsman-” He started, his voice heavy with exasperation. Logan cut him off with a gun shot that went straight past the man’s ear and between the two men behind him, the sudden noise frightening the horses and sending the dogs into uproar.

“Get off my land.” Logan repeated, when the dogs had quietened somewhat, his voice low and unmistakeably resolute. The leader looked furious, the man on his right more self-possessed, though his dark eyes promised violence.

“We’ll be back for him.”

“I’ll shoot on sight.” Logan returned steadily, eyes on the cruel man’s waxen face. The leader kicked his horse forwards in a flurry of rage, coming straight at Logan. Logan fired in front of the animal’s feet, causing it to throw its rider barely two meters from where Logan stood, the horse wheeling itself away, shrieking in terror, only to be caught by the dark-eyed man, led back to where the leader had fallen, now on his feet and fuming icily.

The men waited as their leader remounted, the threat heavy in their silent stares, before manoeuvring themselves around and taking off, leaving the dogs to trail behind, perplexed and disappointed.

Logan brought the rifle round to point at the demon’s head, even as the demon went for Logan’s calf with a slip of a knife clenched in his fist. 

“Drop the blade.” Logan snapped. The demon hesitated and Logan jerked his rifle, making the demon flinch. Logan stepped forwards when the knife was in the leaf litter, the demon glaring at him fiercely and, kicking it away, Logan ordered the demon forwards, following behind with his rifle levelled at the back of the demon’s head. 

They made slow progress with the demon’s leg wound making him limp, and Logan mirrored the demon’s pace, keeping the rifle steady. Time went on and the demon struggled, his breaths coming unevenly as he heaved his wounded leg forwards, the trouser leg soaked red. Neither of them spoke. 

The rain started up again as they were nearing Logan’s house, causing the demon’s shoulders to hunch, his thin shirt darkening in splotches, sticking to the muscles in his neck. The house came into view through the trees, shrouded in the woodland so that it seemed smaller than it really was. The demon slowed minutely, before coming to an unsteady stop, swaying slightly. 

“Keep walking, demon.” Logan ordered quietly, waiting for the demon to step forwards, which he did, eventually, before moving after him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive at Logan's house.

“Halt there.” Logan said once the demon had drawn near to his door. “Hands behind you.” The demon drew two long breaths, his shoulders rising and falling, before he obeyed and put his hands behind his back. Logan freed his belt buckle without releasing his grip on his rifle, the metallic clink causing the demon to flinch, though he kept his hands crossed at the base of his spine. Logan, starting at the demon’s wrists, wrapped the belt around the demon’s forearms before clinching it tight near the demon’s elbows. It pulled the demon’s shoulders back into an uncomfortable position but Logan didn’t want there to be any possibility of him being able to free the belt buckle.

Stepping around the demon, Logan opened the door and nudged the demon inside with the muzzle of his gun. The demon limped down the dark corridor, his breathing raggedly audible in the dead quiet.

“Upstairs.” Logan said, his tone flat. The demon said nothing but his hesitation at the foot of the stairs communicated that he was in a great amount of pain. Logan waited. The demon lifted his uninjured leg, his head falling forwards with a hiss of pain at the transfer of weight. He paused, his breathing jerky, before dragging his injured leg up onto the step. He stopped only for a moment before repeating the motion, his torso swaying as he struggled to keep his balance. Steadying himself, he climbed another stair and then another.

The demon reached halfway and his head fell forwards in exhaustion, the blood-saturated cloth above his knee glistening. He continued to struggle upwards without looking back at Logan, who shadowed his footsteps. He kept two steps behind so that he was close enough to catch the demon if he fell but not so close for the demon to be able to get a hold on him or kick him down the staircase.

The demon was breathing in harsh gasps by the time they were nearing the top of the staircase. The demon had stopped again, his hands shaking in their restraints, but Logan didn’t hurry him.

The demon went to step up but he was exhausted and he didn’t lift his foot high enough. His toe catching on the edge of the step, the demon tripped, falling forwards as he was unable to catch himself on his injured leg. Logan’s hand shot out, the other supporting his rifle, and caught the demon’s elbow. The demon still fell, crumpling to the floor of the landing, but Logan slowed it. He released the demon immediately and waited for the demon to stand, which he did, though with difficulty, before directing him to the end of the hall.

The demon did as he was told, nudging open the door Logan had indicated with his shoulder before stepping inside. It was a plain guest room, layered with dust from disuse and used for food storage. The demon pulled up short at the stacks of cans, staring with dull amazement at the sheer quantity of food.

“On the bed.” Logan instructed. The demon shifted on his bloodied leg but made no move towards the bed. Logan could recognise fear when he saw it but he did nothing, waiting for the demon to make a decision.

“Why?” The demon finally said, his voice a cracked murmur. Logan was silent for several moments,

“Because I need to secure you. And you need to rest your leg.” The demon looked over his shoulder to meet Logan’s gaze. The demon’s face was sick and exhausted with pain but there was steel in his eyes and he seemed to assess Logan’s features and the demon seemed satisfied as he limped very slowly over to the bed, before collapsing onto the covers. “Do not move.” Logan ordered sharply, levelling his rifle at the demon’s forehead so that he froze, before moving backwards to find the chest of drawers and fumbled for the belts that he knew were stored there. He lifted one out and came back to the demon with his rifle raised. He would find rope later, the belts were the best he had to hand. He used it to secure the demon’s already bound arms to the head of the bed so that the buckle was again out of reach. Then he slowly lowered his rifle, his arms aching at holding it raised for so long, and put it over his shoulder. His attention still resting heavily on the demon, a result of the paranoia that had kept him alive, he drew out his last belt and re- threaded it through his trousers, drawing it snug and tucking away the tail before settling his gaze on the demon.

Logan was weary. He needed to eat and maintaining a high level of alertness wore on him. But, if he didn’t stop the flow of the blood seeping from the demon’s leg, the creature might die, enhanced healing be damned. He found some old nightwear in the chest of drawers and came towards the demon to perch guardedly on the edge of the mattress. The demon’s eyes were drooping as he wavered between conscious and unconscious but the demon started violently when Logan put his hand on the demon’s ankle.

“Your wound.” Logan said, by way of explanation in an apathetic effort to prevent the demon panicking. The demon stiffened when Logan drew his knife and slit up the seam of the demon’s trouser leg but he didn’t move, allowing Logan to tightly bind his leg, stemming the flow of blood for the time being.

Satisfied, Logan stood wearily and left the room, taking the key off the mantelpiece and locking the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this a while ago and a lovely comment prompted me to post it. Any prompts are welcome but I'm not planning specifically to finish this one. Anyway, let me know what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> Probably another one shot piece, this is pretty similar to a longer fic I've written about a badass recluse and his demon and I'm disinclined to write anymore on this one. I might put the other one up one day, if I ever work out a proper plot for it. Anyway... if anybody does have a prompt for where they'd like this to go then I might be willing to dabble. Kudos and comments appreciated!


End file.
